


An Accident Waiting to Happen

by Lainpinky131



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén
Genre: Angst and Feels, Flirting, Friendship/Love, Gen, Other, Pre-Heartbreak Incident, Talking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29734119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lainpinky131/pseuds/Lainpinky131
Summary: Almost a year after the Nanosurge, and things in Los Diablos are finally returning to normal. But Sidestep is confronted with the realization that things are far worse than they thought. And with the changes to their powers comes a new moral dilemma.
Relationships: Julia Ortega & Sidestep, Julia Ortega/Sidestep, Ortega & Sidestep (Fallen Hero), Ortega/Sidestep (Fallen Hero)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	An Accident Waiting to Happen

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on a script i wrote for my creative writing class based on the three prompts- Location: Bike Race, Action: Taking a selfie, Problem: Can't hear.
> 
> also, i have no idea what the author has to say, but I've always thought of fem!ortega's first name being Julia pronounced hoo-lia. so i've changed the spelling to Júlia, to further emphasize the way i pronounce it. :)

“You know the bike race this Friday?”

Júlia Ortega set their plates down on the table as Sidestep—aka Zeshawni Cree Broker—leaned back on the sofa to look at her.

“What about it?” They asked.

“The mayor asked the Rangers if we wanted to join in,” she said.

Ortega sat down opposite Zeshawni on the sofa. She couldn’t help but notice how they looked surprisingly out of place, even in their own apartment, among the cream-colored furniture and beige wallpaper.

It was incredibly rare for Zeshawni to share something so personal as their home with anyone, and Ortega appreciated it. She’d only just recently been allowed to even know their address, let alone be invited over. She had a feeling that Anathema had known already, but she wasn’t going to poke the bear by bringing that up.

Anathema was out for a moment getting their takeout, no doubt having purposely decided to leave Ortega and Zeshawni alone together. The two were just fine being friends, despite what her fellow Ranger believed.

“You know how to use a bike?” Zeshawni asked.

“I’m a bit offended you think I don’t,” Ortega snorted.

Zeshawni grinned. The look on their face showed they were about to say some witty retort to insult Ortega’s intelligence, but she interrupted them before they were able to get it out.

“Yes, I can bike. Most of the Rangers can, by the way,” she said. “We’ve been invited to race, not that we’re allowed to compete, though. We’re just supposed to motivate the other racers. So, it’s completely fair.”

Ortega had okayed the event as soon as it had come to her attention. Everyone in Los Diablos had been beaten down by the Nanosurge, herself included, and while it had been nearly a year since the tragedy, the memories were still strong. It was a good idea for the Rangers to get involved with the public, and be seen more often than when there was some emergency.

“Why bother if you can’t even win?” Zeshawni asked.

Ortega leaned forward on the sofa, “Wow. So competitive, _Sidestep_. I’m kinda’ disappointed in you.”

“Well, I’ll be disappointed in you, _Charge_ , when you inevitably take last place,” they said.

Ortega threw up her arms, “Wow! Thanks for the confidence!” She laughed. “I’m actually pretty good at racing.”

“How? You take a bike class to hit on the instructor?” Zeshawni teased her with a smile.

“You know, a lot of people find bike riding attractive,” she said.

“Yeah, no.”

Ortega could barely hold back her laughter as she nearly doubled over on the sofa.

“And here I was going to invite you to join us,” Ortega said, and Zeshawni’s smile dropped.

“To race with you? Or as one of the Rangers?” They asked.

Ortega steeled herself; Zeshawni always acted like that when it came to the topic of joining the Rangers. Most of the time it led to an argument, or at least a fairly heated disagreement, but Ortega kept offering the invitation anyway.

“Z, just because you’re not official doesn’t mean you haven’t saved lives,” Ortega insisted.

Zeshawni grimaced. “I’m not one of you guys.”

 _But you could be._ She knew better than to say that.

Ortega had a few ideas why they were so resistant to formerly joining up. The Rangers were official, with all sorts of checks and balances that separated them from other would-be vigilantes. In order for Zeshawni to be allowed in, the two of them would have to explain to the other Rangers exactly who they were. Which happened to be the very number one thing they never wanted to do.

“But we don’t have to explain to anyone who you are,” she said, but Zeshawni just rolled their eyes.

“Just because you’re Marshal doesn’t mean you can invite outsiders into your super-club events.”

Ortega furrowed her brow, “I think being Marshal means exactly that,” she said, but she could tell it wasn’t very inspiring as Zeshawni’s scowl never wavered. “I’m not going to force you to go, I just wanted to extend the invitation. I’d really appreciate it if you came, even if you didn’t want to race with us.” _With me_ went unsaid.

Zeshawni bit their lip, as if trying to find the best way to get out of this. They stalled for several seconds until Anathema came into the room, the smell of curry filling the air.

“Hope you guys are cool with extra spicy,” Anathema said, not yet noticing the tension between the two of them.

Zeshawni stood. “Let me help,” they said to Anathema. The discussion was over, apparently.

Sometimes, Ortega couldn’t help but think that hanging out with Zeshawni was like ramming her head into a wall.

* * *

Zeshawni could have stayed home, and watched the race on TV if they really wanted to know how the Rangers were doing. Or they could have gone with Ortega to the event, cheered her on from where all the Rangers stood on the sidelines. But of course they hadn’t done either of those things.

Donned in a disguise of a light blue denim jacket and jeans, Zeshawni went to the event to watch Ortega race anonymously, unnoticeable, and completely not special. It was always safer to be everyone else.

Time passed as Zeshawni watched the cyclists. The race was several laps through the park so Zeshawni didn’t have to move to keep up with Ortega. It was somewhat fun, they could admit, but the race was the last thing they were here for. Zeshawni wanted to support their friend, even if said friend didn’t know it.

Ortega did not take first place, but neither took last as Zeshawni had teased her about. Ortega didn’t seem to mind, however, as all throughout the race, she never stopped smiling.

At the finish line, the racers gathered to talk, hydrate themselves, and hand out trophies. Zeshawni could see Ortega, a towel wrapped around her neck as sweat beaded down her forehead. Her long ponytail bounced back and forth as she spoke and laughed with her fellow racers. The media, of course, was present, trying their best to capture candid images of everyone’s favorite Ranger. Ortega was never the most inconspicuous person in public, but right now, with her scars and augments visible on toned arms, her smile dazzling in the sun, no one could take their eyes off of Charge.

Zeshawni didn’t dare come closer, not with all the people and cameras. There was a small part of them that wished they could be there with Ortega and Anathema and the other Rangers. To be just like them, not hiding among the non-powered peoples of Los Diablos.

But that’s not how life worked.

It took a long while for the crowd to dissipate, and for Ortega to begin packing up with all the other Rangers.

Zeshawni should leave now, get out of the hot sun and get home before anyone noticed them, but they didn’t.

Ortega was just about ready, her coat on and earbuds firmly placed in her ears when a group of three teenagers cautiously approached her. Zeshawni couldn’t hear what they were saying, but from their nervous body language, and the way one of them held out their phone, it was clear they were asking Ortega for a picture.

Ortega smiled and nodded, and the teenagers giggled as they took up position beside her to take the selfie.

It was then that Zeshawni saw another cyclist coming down the path toward Ortega and the teens, looking at their own phone and quite obviously not paying any attention to the group of people blocking their way. The group of people they were about to crash into.

Ortega, you idiot.

Zeshawni reached out unconsciously, their mind brushing against the cyclist’s, just a little nudge to make them look up and swerve to avoid the Ranger that was too stupid to realize that they were about to get hit by a bike.

Except, it wasn’t a little nudge.

The cyclist yanked on their handlebars, tensing so strongly that their bike toppled over and sent them crashing to the ground.

Definitely not a little nudge.

Zeshawni could only stare.

Ortega and the teenagers all ran over to check on the cyclist, but Zeshawni had stopped paying them any attention, too rapt at what they had just done with their mind. Without even _trying_.

They hadn’t meant to startle them so strongly. It was only supposed to be a slight touch, a delicate stroke, not a… whatever they had just done.

Zeshawni needed to leave. Now.

**Author's Note:**

> 2nd chapter is maybe half done, but i have no idea when i'll finish it. feel free to comment!
> 
> @vagabond1925 on tumblr :)


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